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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Tangerine - Part 1 Chapter 1dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: manwithnoname
    ASL Info:    18/M/Ontario
    Elite Ratio:    5.84 - 314/278/117
    Words: 835
    Class/Type: Story/Misc
    Total Views: 873
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4642



    Description:
       Here is the introduction to Tangerine. It picks up in the next chapter.

    I don't know what you'll think of it. I'm not a great story writer, never have been. I'm more a poet than a story writer. But I hope I'll be able to catch someone's interest with my story.

    Stay tuned for the next chapter!


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsTangerine - Part 1 Chapter 1dots
    -------------------------------------------


    Part One - "The Hours They Bring Me Pain"

    Chapter 1 - "My, My, I'm So Happy"


    With a graceful sweep of her hand, Mother put her signature on the last of the documents. She and Father had made sure to read the fine print. They were careful like that.

    These documents were like gold to us. Mother, Father and I were so very tired of traveling. We had lived like nomads for the past year or so, looking for a suitable place to stay. Finally, we had come across the quaint little town known as Vulpe Village. As we wandered through it, we saw there was a humble little residence situated near the town center. It was vacant and very affordable. We had enough money to afford the down payment (though I like to refer to it as a happy payment, since I find no sadness in it) and still had some left over to get ourselves started. What joy was in our hearts on that day, the day we found a home!

    We are, to put it bluntly, bird people. We do have human characteristics, but we are quite different in many ways. Mother, Father and I are a deep shade of orange. We once met with a desert nomad and he called us the “Tangerines”. We have beak-like noses, eagle eyes, winged arms, feathery hair, and talons on our hands and feet. My Mother and I have long, black hair, but my Father has short brown hair. I take more after Mother. She is the picture of grace, and I am likewise.

    As we stood in the mayor’s office, he personally welcomed us to Vulpe Village. He told us that in the past, foxes used to roam the streets, and they decided to call the town Vulpe Village in honour of those beautiful creatures. I personally love foxes, but have not seen many in my life. I’ve only seen them at a distance. They always slink away, the sly devils that they are.

    Later that day we moved into the small house. It was so empty that our voices echoed wherever we were. It was like standing within a valley or a canyon. We did not have many belongings, and because of that, we could not kill the echo. I found it rather neat, but I could see the silent frustration on my parent’s faces. I never understood why they felt like that. Maybe they felt bad that they couldn’t give me much. But I didn’t need much. I was a simple child.

    We went for a walk around the town, looking to meet fellow residents. First, we met Mrs. Robinson. She was a tall lady, with long legs, a flat belly and a large bosom. Her face was plastered with bright colours. She looked like a rainbow, and she smelled faintly of one too. When she saw us she almost jumped out of her makeup.

    “I’ve never met bird people before.” She said in her low, sultry voice. “I didn’t think they existed.”

    Next, we met a nice gentleman named Mr. Darcy. He took a great liking to us immediately, especially Mother.

    “Good day, fine avian lady,” he said, and gave Mother a kiss on her hand, “what brings you and your family to our town?”

    “We just moved in,” Mother said with a blush, “We’re glad to finally be able to settle down again.”

    “Ah yes, nothing quite like having a proper home sweet home. Perhaps I shall visit sometime.” He replied. “I must really be going though, or I shall be late for my afternoon tea. Good day.” And with a flourish and a bow, he was off.

    “What a nice man,” said Mother. Father gave her a withered look. I could see he was jealous. Something to do with males, my Mother told me once.

    The final person we met before we returned to the house was a man named Dr. Do-much.

    “Fascinating! Fascinating!” He cried when he saw us.

    “What is so fascinating?” I asked.

    “You! I’ve never seen such interesting creatures! You really must come to my place for tea. I must get to know you better.” He replied.

    “We’d love to, but maybe another time. We have to get back to our house and finish…things.” said Father. Dr. Do-much was quite overbearing. We hastened back to our new house. We would meet new people tomorrow.

    When we got home, Mother made her famous vegetable stew. I don’t know why it was famous, but it truly was delicious. Shortly afterwards, tired and full of stew, we drifted off to our respective rooms. I stared up at the white ceiling for a while, painting landscapes of rainbows and cloud castles. Finally, when my masterpiece was finished, I drifted off into a contented sleep, feeling like Michelangelo must have after painting the Sistine Chapel.




    Submitted on 2007-10-15 08:16:26     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Bravo for you Corey getting out of your comfort zone & taking a journey into storytelling

    I have never read anything about bird people so I like the originality and I think you have given us a nice introduction to these fair feathered friends. I think you have set a nice tone and I'm sure we'll be introduced more to the flights of fancy in the town!

    Great!

    love,peace,joy&smiles to share

    tif
    | Posted on 2007-10-16 00:00:00 | by Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
      we could not kill the echo

    i adored this image and couldnt help but think that it wasnt just the echo of an empty house they were trying to kill...

    i have to say you have established the voice well. you have also inserted the title into this part which is good... it gives the reader an idea of where theyve been and what theyve seen.

    i think you have done better than i ever could. stories and me do not belong together.

    i think though that your introduction of the residents of the village was a little too... quick and imageless somehow... im not sure... i think it could be made to flow better rather than 'and then we met... and then...'

    good work here
    | Posted on 2007-10-15 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]


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